


chrysanthemums for you, with love

by orphan_account



Series: wonwoo pairings [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Past Lives, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Character Death, Childhood, Childhood Memories, Children, Depression, Inspired by K-Drama | Korean Drama, Joseon Dynasty, M/M, Multiple Deaths, Past Lives, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-01 11:55:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,225
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13997796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: When Wonwoo shakes Soonyoung’s hands, Wonwoo sees a vivid image of spring. It is unbeknownst to him, however, that it isn’t the first time their souls crossed together; 200 hundred years ago, they were once lovers who shared a passionate, albeit clandestine, romance.AKA my first attempt at the past lives AU about how love transcends beyond lifetimes. :)





	1. Gyeongbokgung Palace, 1830

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. For the purposes of storytelling, I changed names in chapter 1, which will be featuring the 19th century narrative. Here’s the guide to who’s who: 
> 
> Jeon Wonwoo - Crown Prince Won Myeong  
> Kwon Soonyoung - Sun Ha  
> Lee Seokmin - Do Myeong  
> Choi Seungcheol - Cheol Soo  
> Yoon Jeonghan - Jae Han  
> Boo Seungkwan - Se Kwan  
> Lee Chan - Chang Min  
> Kim Mingyu - Gu Myeong
> 
> 2\. I made a YouTube playlist specifically for chapter 1! I wanted all of you guys to feel the 19th century Korea vibe. These are the songs I listened to while writing the chapter. :) [Click here for the playlist!](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EuSmZzLG1xI&list=PLQWabZcG7BKPGGDngHBB7-RnQejjZJWsf&index=1)  
> 

**Gyeongbokgung Palace, 1830**

“If I may, your Highness.” The eunuch’s voice echoed in the Crown Prince’s chambers. He stood there, with his head lowered towards the ground, as he tried not to look directly at the face of the man standing a few steps away from him. Their bodies, warm against the cold air, were the only ones that brought life to the somber room. 

“You may, now,” a low, firm voice responded. Sun Ha then gave a small bow and walked towards him. He lifted his hands to hold the ends of the Crown Prince’s  _ gat _ and proceeded to lift it gently from his head. Sun Ha put the hat down on the table, which was ladened with several other accessories. Sun Ha, who tried his best to keep his hands from trembling, then moved to untie the knot on the Crown Prince’s  _ jeogori _ . The prince extended both of his arms, after which he nodded once, prompting Sun Ha to slip the thin silk upper garment off Won Myeong’s shoulders. Feeling as if there was nothing else to look at, Sun Ha tried to keep himself from blushing, as the sight of the prince’s broad shoulders and outlines of his chest revealed themselves to him. 

He tried to breathe quietly, he prevented any sound from escaping his mouth as he laid down the prince’s upper garments on the table beside them. Sun Ha felt his pulse quicken as he saw the Crown Prince walk closer towards him, with his face, his beautiful face, only a short distance away from his. He wanted to say, ‘Please, your Highness, someone might see us’, or ‘Not now, your Highness’. He wanted to walk away, to escape from the glorious presence of the man who was able to make his every day wonderful, meaningful, thrilling. But his feet remained unmoved, his lips remained pursed. Sun Ha closed his eyes. 

A touch, so familiar, from a hand so soft, brushed Sun Ha’s fingers. It was this touch, a sensation that he had memorized, that eased even the worst of Sun Ha’s worries. He often found himself yearning for this touch during the long nights when he felt so alone. In that moment, Sun Ha tried to resist, he had to resist, for fears of someone walking in on them clouded his mind; however, he was unable to do so. He gave in; he took a deep breath, then he locked his fingers with Won Myeong’s. He eased into the warmth of his touch, and smiled. 

The Crown Prince then lifted Sun Ha’s fingers to his face and moved to kiss the back of his hand, a gesture which made Sun Ha open his eyes in surprise. He was about to pull his hand away, but he saw the look on Won Myeong’s face; his eyebrows were furrowed, his eyes were closed, his lips were tightly pressed on Sun Ha’s hand. His lips lingered there for more than just a moment, both of their bodies still. The prince looked like he was praying, and Sun Ha began to wonder, what would Won Myeong pray for? Would Won Myeong pray for him?

The memory of when he first saw the Crown Prince crossed his mind. It was when Sun Ha entered the palace to be a eunuch, a job he wasn’t really enthusiastic about. When the senior palace staff took the new batch of eunuchs around the palace, Sun Ha found himself staring fondly at a tall man clad in beautiful clothes of blue, strolling across the garden, looking happily at the lilies in the pond and the chrysanthemums that began to blossom, as it had been spring. It surprised Sun Ha when the man, who seemed to be part of the royal family, looked back at him with a smile. At that moment, he heard nothing but the sound of his heartbeat, and he saw no one else but him. 

Suddenly, Sun Ha found himself in the room again, with Won Myeong’s lips slowly leaving his hand. The two of them looked at at one another, with the glow of the moon serving as their only light. Sun Ha lifted his fingers to touch Won Myeong’s face, because he wanted to see if this was real; he was too good, too beautiful to be real. “I love you. You are the moon of my life,” Sun Ha whispered. Won Myeong leaned in to kiss him, softly at first, deeply the next. With their bodies pressed against one another, Won Myeong’s hands reached for the ends of Sun Ha’s silk garment, but before he could untie the knot, Sun Ha stopped him. 

“I am so sorry, my prince. I have to leave now, for the others might begin to question my absence,” Sun Ha said immediately, the cloud of anxiety never failing to leave his mind. 

Won Myeong sighed lightly. “I understand, my love,” he said as he wrapped his fingers around Sun Ha’s hand again. “Please be safe. I will see you tomorrow,” he said as he let go. 

With reluctant steps, Sun Ha left the Crown Prince’s chambers, walking away from the single place, from the single person, where he could be himself, where he could be more than a eunuch, where he could be more than just an accessory. 

  


—

  


“You have to tell us everything, Sun Ha. You are so unfair!” Jae Han whispered under his breath. The four youngest eunuchs in the palace gathered together in their quarters; they were supposed to go to the grand hall to hear an announcement from His Royal Highness, the Great King Yoo Hwa, but of course, they had to gossip first. 

“Yes! You have to tell us what the Crown Prince is like! I can tell that even though he looks gentle, he can be quite strong...especially when in bed,” Se Kwan added as he tried to suppress his giggles. 

Sun Ha took a deep breath. The relationship between him and Crown Prince Won Myeong had become a vibrant source of gossip among the eunuchs. Stories about them filled up the empty corners and spaces in the palace, and these kept people busy at night. 

“Please, such a relationship does not exist between me and his Highness,” Sun Ha replied with a smile. 

Chang Min gagged in apparent mockery. “Oh, please, Sun Ha, stop lying. It’s obvious that there is something happening. Why else would you spend so many late nights inside the Crown Prince’s chamber if you were not making love?” 

Sun Ha glared at Chang Min, then he looked at the faces of other two eunuchs. He felt his face go hot in panic. He tried his best to organize his thoughts within seconds in order to let out an appropriate response. “The Crown Prince has a lot of things he wants checked, and we all know very well that the chief eunuchs have instructed all of us to assist him in every possible way. Now, if I may be excused,” he said calmly as he walked away.

Sun Ha’s and Won Myeong’s late nights were, to a certain extent, romantic. But on most nights, they just talk. Unbeknownst to many, Won Myeong was someone who loved poetry; he had made hundreds of poems, all written with a brush and black ink, engraved in white scripts. 

At first, Won Myeong was reluctant to share his poems to Sun Ha. These poems were fragments of his heart, and revealing his raw emotions to someone else was something that made him feel exposed and vulnerable. He was used to showing only a particular image of himself to others: notably, that of a future ruler, distant and diplomatic, just like his father. 

But Sun Ha was able to reach out to him. One night in the ninth month of the previous year, as the petals fell down to welcome the arrival of autumn, Won Myeong recited one of his poems to Sun Ha. It was a poem of love, a poem of how the sun yearns for the moon, about the complexities of time. 

As he listened to his voice, accompanied by the whispers of the cicadas, Sun Ha cried in front of Won Myeong for the first time. Won Myeong then held him in his arms and caressed the back of his head. “Please, do not cry,” he whispered.

Sun Ha closed his eyes as he tried to make his tears stop. “I’m sorry, my prince. Your poem...it was very beautiful.” 

Won Myeong laughed quietly. “That poem, I wrote it for you.” Sun Ha blushed; at first, he found himself unable to conjure the words to tell the Crown Prince. He felt so honored, so loved, to hear a poem written especially for him. 

“I have no words...but thank you, my prince, it is an honor I can never repay with my life,” Sun Ha said with his brightest smile. 

“Won Myeong. Call me Won Myeong.” 

“Won Myeong.” The name slipped from Sun Ha’s lips almost naturally; it was the first time he called him by his real name. At that moment, Won Myeong was not a crown prince, not a future ruler, not an embodiment of a deity; he was simply the man Sun Ha loved. Sun Ha was thankful for that. 

And Won Myeong was more than grateful that the gods had bestowed upon him the existence of such a person like Sun Ha. Oh, what a life it could have been, if only they could love freely. 

  


—

  


A long line composed of eunuchs, servants, and guards accompanied the Crown Prince as he made his way towards the grand hall. The prince was wearing a red silk  _ hanbok _ adorned with golden embroideries. Sitting on top of his head was an  _ ik seon gwan _ , a long hat worn only by the King and the Crown Prince during special occasions. The Crown Prince walked with such elegance; his presence was an amalgam of grace and power combined. 

The small procession towards the grand hall took place quietly, until two figures, one clad in a blue  _ hanbok _ , the other in black military uniform, approached the prince. 

“Brother,” said the one in the blue  _ hanbok _ .

“Do Myeong. What brings you here?” Won Myeong said as he acknowledged his presence.

Do Myeong put on a wry smile. “Well, I am also looking forward to what father has to say to you. The fact that he gathered all court officials to the grand hall for the announcement seems like he might just give you the crown today!” 

Won Myeong shook his head, displeased by what his younger brother just said. “Please, do not make such a statement.” Do Myeong’s face remained unchanged. “If you want, you can come with us and we can arrive at the grand hall together,” Won Myeong continued. 

“Thank you for the kind gesture, my honorable brother, but I have something else to do. I will see you in the grand hall,” Do Myeong replied graciously. Won Myeong then looked at his younger brother, the tension between the two of them overwhelmingly consuming the air. Unfazed by his brother’s stare, Do Myeong and the man in the military uniform began to walk towards the opposite direction. The younger prince stopped once to look towards the direction of the eunuchs and the servants, smiled, then continued. 

The relationship between Won Myeong and Do Myeong had not always been strained. When they were younger, the two princes always played together. They learned all the skills they possessed, together, from riding a horse, fighting with a sword, shooting an arrow, to learning texts. They had always relied on each other; however, Do Myeong was always the more ambitious one. He was the one who wanted to win, to be acknowledged for his skills. The once beautiful bond between the two brothers began to change when special tasks and sessions specifically decreed only for the Crown Prince made him feel inadequate and impotent. Comfort turned into envy, admiration turned into frustration, love turned into hatred. 

“Father, I want to do what Won Myeong is doing, too!” Do Myeong once demanded, his face ripe with apparent helplessness. 

The king shook his head. “Those are only for the Crown Prince. The best thing you can do, my dear child, is to learn how to support your brother once he becomes king. That is the best gift you can offer to him as his sibling.”

Do Myeong laughed in disbelief. “So my brother will become king, and I will only be his humble adviser? A substitute? I will be someone who will only be his right-hand, but not someone who can have power? What is this, if not a shameful degradation?”

The king’s eyes widened in dismay. “Insolence! Will you dare disobey your king?”

“I would rather disobey the crown than live such a shameful life. I will see myself out.”

As Do Myeong stormed off, the Crown Prince wanted to speak up. He wanted to tell his brother, ‘Oh, I would give you the title of the king if that’s the only thing that will please you’. But doing such would be going against tradition, which would displease not only the king and the queen, but the officials and the people. 

Fragments of his memory as a child, of him and Do Myeong playing together, without any regard for power, success, envy, and all the things that had vanquished their fondness for one another, appeared in Won Myeong’s mind as he watched his younger brother walk away from him. 

  


—

  


“All rise for his Royal Highness, the Great King Yoo Hwa!” 

Everyone in the grand hall, including the queen and the Crown Prince, rose to pay respects to the king, who looked full of life at almost seventy years of age. Upon seeing the faces of the ministers, the officials, the queen, and his children, he nodded once, prompting everyone to sit down.

The king cleared his throat as he prepared to speak. “Today, I have a very special announcement to make with regards to the Crown Prince.” Everyone sat still on their seats. Will the king be retiring? Will a new king be crowned by fortnight? 

Won Myeong tried to mask his nervousness by maintaining a calm expression. He caught a glimpse of Sun Ha’s face, adorned with a smile of encouragement, as if to tell him  _ ‘Everything is going to be fine’ _ . He began to relax his shoulders as he waited for the king’s words to fill the hall. 

As he began, everyone else went silent. 

“By the end of the next fortnight, by the last day of the Spring Festival, the people of Joseon will be gathering within the palace grounds to put forward their concerns to the monarchy. In light of this, I would like to give the Crown Prince an opportunity to speak in front of the people.” A bit of chaos transpired within the grand hall; the ministers were whispering amongst one another, and even the servants were unable to keep their mouths shut. Do Myeong sat still, his fists clenched. This would be the first time for the Crown Prince to take on an administrative task and face the people of the nation.

“But your Highness, isn’t it too soon to give the Crown Prince a task with such gravity?” A lot of other ministers nodded in agreement. 

“Why is it too soon?” the king began. “It is of importance for a young tree to become rooted on the soil to which it will grow. The Crown Prince will be the future ruler of this great country, and I am getting older with each passing season. He is young, yes, but I think he is mature and sensible enough to face the people.”

The murmurs persisted, but soon subsided. Won Myeong then spoke up, his voice loud and clear, royal. 

“Thank you, your Highness, for such an opportunity. I will prepare well.” 

Won Myeong felt a quick rush of emotions after hearing the King’s words. He was comforted by the fact that his father trusts him enough to let him speak in front of the masses. But there was a deep, unseated fear in his heart about being the future king, a fear that had never let itself be felt profoundly until that very moment, as the prospect of the monarchy glared right at him, its eyes wide and vicious. What would happen to him and Sun Ha once he becomes the ruler of Joseon? He would get married, that’s for sure, since someone has to inherit the throne. But could he break Sun Ha’s heart like that? Would he have the courage to abandon him? 

He then looked again at Sun Ha, whose face was painted with an expression of serenity and hope. He tried to smile back, but there was an undeniable glint of sadness and hopelessness in his eyes.

Won Myeong never realized it, but Sun Ha had always known the answer. He knew Won Myeong would eventually have to get married to a woman of noble background, and she would be his queen. He would have children, children who would inherit his beautiful, fox-like eyes, his genuine smile and laughter. Sun Ha knew their relationship would inevitably come to an end, but despite the odds, he didn’t mind. He was happy the way things were. To Sun Ha, loving Won Myeong and being loved by Won Myeong in return were enough. 

  


—

  


The crowds dispersed and the palace returned to its usual bustle. As the sun slowly kissed the horizon, Won Myeong and Sun Ha walked quietly in the garden. Luckily for both of them, everyone in the palace was somewhere else, and they were able to have the whole place to themselves. 

“My heart is full of happiness for you, your Highness. I believe you’ll be able to-” Sun Ha began, but he was cut short when the Crown Prince faced him, his eyes weary and moist. “What’s wrong, my prince? Are you hurt?” 

Won Myeong began to cry. His tears glistened against the sunset, an almost ethereal presence. Sun Ha’s right hand brushed Won Myeong’s cheek. “What’s wrong? You can tell me.”

Won Myeong then took a deep breath. “Earlier, when my father made his announcement, I saw a glimpse of my future as king. I got scared that when that time comes, you won’t be here anymore. I won’t be able to hold you anymore, and I…” Won Myeong was at a loss for words. “I just want you to know, Sun Ha, your presence is the greatest thing in my life. And it pains me that I can only love you in this way.” 

Sun Ha’s tears began to fall. “I will be here. No matter what happens, I will be here.” He then embraced Won Myeong close, so close that he could hear his heartbeat. He felt as if their souls were bound together, as if they were one being. As he held Won Myeong in his arms, he saw himself somewhere else, somewhere far away from the palace. In that place, he was also with Won Myeong. They were watching the sunset together, and they were happy. 

As Sun Ha let go, Won Myeong whispered to his ear. “Will you meet me in my chambers tonight?” 

Without hesitation, Sun Ha said yes. 

  


—

  


The moon shone bright over Gyeongbokgung Palace that night as the two lovers made love by the candlelight. Their bodies, bare, were closely pressed against one another as they sought for warmth and pleasure. Sun Ha dug his fingers deep into Won Myeong’s back as he tried to suppress his moans. Hours later, they retired under the blankets. Won Myeong kissed Sun Ha’s bare back, after which he went out of the sheets to retrieve something from his study. 

“I have something for you,” the Crown Prince told Sun Ha. In his hands were two fully bloomed chrysanthemum flowers, one red and one white. Sun Ha’s eyes widened in wonder and awe, as these were the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. 

“These flowers represent my everlasting love and loyalty to you. I do not know yet what fate has in store for the two of us, but please know that I love you with all my heart. No matter what happens, I will continue to love you in this lifetime, until the next, if fate would be kind enough to allow us to.”

Sun Ha retrieved the flowers from Won Myeong’s hands. It was his first time holding and seeing chrysanthemums up close. He heard from one of the other eunuchs what the flowers meant; the red ones symbolized love and deep passion, while the white ones signified loyalty. Love and loyalty: these were two abstractions that meant so much to Sun Ha, and these were the same emotions he felt for Won Myeong. He then laid the flowers by his bedside and leaned in to kiss Won Myeong softly on the lips. 

“Thank you for these flowers, my love. I will cherish these deeply, and I will keep your feelings in my heart forever.” 

The two lovers smiled fondly at each other, both of them cherishing how lovely everything was: the night sky was full of stars, the silence of the evening brought to them both serenity and calmness. And there they were, two beautiful people passionately in love with each other, who only saw each other, without a care for anything else in the world. 

However, as serene as it was, the night also possessed darkness. In another, more secluded part of the palace, a man clad in black military clothes was seated across Do Myeong, who was enjoying the aroma of his tea with his eyes shut. 

“Should I execute the plan, your Highness?” 

Do Myeong stopped to think carefully about the words uttered by his servant. He then slowly opened his eyes as he set his tea cup down on the table. “Let us wait until the next fortnight, on the day of the Spring Festival. That would be the best time, Cheol Soo,” he said, his voice stern, his expression cold. 

“As you wish.” 

“I want to make a public spectacle of his downfall.” Do Myeong’s cold and calculating expression remained unchanged.

“Oh, it will be a sight to behold, your Highness.”

  


—

  


The day of the Spring Festival came, and the palace was adorned with all sorts of colors; flags swayed along with the wind, thousands of lanterns of various shades complimented the blue sky, and all flowers were in full bloom. The whole palace was full of life. Gisaengs danced and musicians played their instruments with great vigor, while everyone else, the members of the royal family, the eunuchs, the ministers, the servants, the guards, and the people of Joseon, watched over the festivities fondly. Also standing in the middle of the palace grounds was a shrine decorated with flowers, food, and fresh harvests, all offerings to the gods for blessing the people of Joseon with abundance.

The crowd burst into cheers as the gisaengs concluded their dance. As order restored within the palace grounds, the king rose his glass, his face brimming with pride as he looked at the faces of his people. Everyone went silent. “Spring has come to the our great nation, and we have been indeed blessed by the gods, for they have not permitted the deadly cold of the winter to kill our crops. They have not allowed the cold to take the lives of our children.” The people nodded in agreement, while some uttered prayers of thanksgiving.

“As we celebrate the beginning of a new season, I would like everyone to look and listen fondly to the words of my son, the Crown Prince Won Myeong, who will take the helm in leading this country forward in the future. The great history of the people of Joseon flow in his veins, and it is in his hands I will entrust the Joseon of tomorrow.” The king then looked at the face of his eldest son. It was not obvious to the him, or to anyone else in the palace grounds, but Won Myeong was overwhelmed with nervousness. It was his first major task as Crown Prince, so he must do it well. Moreover, the officials and the people were watching and waiting for him to utter his words. As he cleared his mind, he stood up with a dignified stance, his shoulders raised with pride, as if he was already king. 

Sun Ha gasped in awe as he watched his lover rise from his seat. He was majestic and statuesque, everything else was pale in comparison. Despite their bodies being several feet apart, Sun Ha felt the nervousness that tried to devour Won Myeong from the inside. But he knew his lover would do well. 

The Crown Prince had such a commanding presence, that even the birds perched on the branches of the cherry blossom trees stopped singing. He then began to speak, his voice loud and clear. 

“To the great people of Joseon, I am but a young man who has been given the chance to undertake this honorable path of becoming the future ruler of this country. I have learned a lot of things from my teachers, from the king, and from my loving mother, the queen. I have learned great wisdom from texts, I have learned how to fight in order to defend this nation from any war that would plague it, and I have also learned that I should always have compassion and empathy not only to become a good ruler but also a good person. However, I believe I will learn a lot more from the people. Words are not enough for me to show how grateful I am for the hard work the people have exerted for this country. Without the fruits of your labor, the entire nation will go hungry. People will have nothing to wear. There would be no armor for me and the guards to use. Thus, I believe that every child, every woman, and every man in this nation is important. And so, I dream of a Joseon wherein people and the monarchy can help each other to mold a better country. I hope that everyone can help me achieve my dream.”

Cheers resonated throughout the palace. Everyone, including the king, the ministers, the servants, and the people, was smiling. Some of the elders clasped their hands in prayer; they were at ease that in the future, the country would be in the hands of a man who knew the worth and value of its people. 

Sun Ha let out a sigh of relief as he watched the jubilant faces of the crowd. He felt proud and comfortable, as if a huge weight had just been lifted off his shoulders. He then gazed at the sky; it was clear, as blue as the sea. He felt a profound sense of tranquility, one that he had felt only once in his life, and it was when he saw Won Myeong for the first time. It was indeed a beautiful day. 

As he looked towards Won Myeong’s direction, Sun Ha saw a figure in black, seemingly a man, moving behind one of the pillars of the palace. As he tried to process who the person was and what he was doing there, the man drew a bow, his fingers waiting to release a long, wooden arrow. Sun Ha’s eyes wandered as he predicted the direction as to where the arrow would hit. Suddenly, his feet grew cold. 

The arrow was pointed at the Crown Prince.

And so his instincts took over. His feet moved towards the direction of the Crown Prince; he took big steps, the largest steps he had ever taken. He saw nothing else, no one else, but Won Myeong, whom he was desperate to save.  _ Please, make it in time! Please! _

He embraced Won Myeong, his back faced against the direction of the arrow, his face looking directly towards the man he loved the most. “You will be fine,” he whispered. 

And then it hit him. 

Screams erupted among the people. The shade of crimson began to color the ground. Sun Ha then collapsed into Won Myeong’s arms, his breathing heavy, his face pale. Won Myeong, his body trembling with fear, knelt down to put Sun Ha’s head on his lap. “No...no, no. No. Please. No.” 

“My prince,” Sun Ha said weakly. Won Myeong shook his head, his lips unable to utter any words. He tried to tell himself in his mind, this is not real. This is just a bad dream. He would wake up, and Sun Ha would be beside him. Sun Ha would be okay. 

But he began to realize it was real, he began to realize that it would not be okay, as Sun Ha’s breathing began to grow weaker. Sun Ha raised his shoulders once to speak. “I’m sorry, my prince. I will see you again….soon...in another life, I hope…”

Won Myeong began to sob. “No…Don’t…” He whimpered as he helplessly put pressure on Sun Ha’s wound. Oh, the sorrow of witnessing the love of his life fade in his hands, his existence, his consciousness slowly dulling with every passing moment. He clutched his chest tightly, as if to contain his pain, but it was too much to bear. 

“I hope...we could be in a better place next time.” Sun Ha’s hand reached to brush Won Myeong’s cheek. A touch, from a hand so familiar; and then he was gone. 

Won Myeong closed his eyes as he held Sun Ha’s lifeless body in his arms. He laid there for hours, unmoved, not heeding the words of anyone. He would turn back time, if he could. He would protect Sun Ha from the arrow, if he could. But he didn’t. And it was too late. 

  


—

  


It had been a week since Sun Ha passed away, and the Crown Prince had not eaten anything since then. The servants and the other eunuchs tried their best to persuade Won Myeong to consume something, anything. But he just remained there in his quarters, refusing to talk to anyone. It had been a week since he last saw the sun, since he last saw the flowers that were in full bloom. It was spring, but in his heart, it felt like winter: cold, desolate, barren. 

His mother then entered his room, appalled to see how much Won Myeong changed. His cheeks shrunk drastically, his limbs were thin, his posture bad. She cried as she watched her son become diminished into a hollow frame. Her son, who once possessed the charisma of a future king, became an empty shell of his former self. 

Won Myeong lifted his head once to look at his mother, then brought his gaze back down again. The queen then moved closer and embraced her son. “My child...what has become of you?” 

His mother’s question echoed in his mind. What had become of him? The events that transpired during the past week replayed in his head: the speech, the arrow, Sun Ha’s death. He closed his eyes as he tried to remember the memory of Sun Ha’s last touch. It was Sun Ha who had the softest, warmest hands; his touch was enough to tell him that everything will be alright. He then realized he will never be able to hold his hands again. Never will his lips lay on Sun Ha’s soft lips again. 

And so he cried. For the first time since that day, he cried. 

“I loved him.” He said, his voice quivering as he stopped his tears from flowing. “I loved him, and I wasn’t able to protect him. Now he’s gone. And it’s my fault.” 

The queen looked at her child sympathetically. “It’s not your fault, my child. Stop blaming yourself,” she said gently. “Wait, I’ll get the head chef. I’ll tell him to cook for you your favorite meals.” 

Won Myeong shook his head. “There is no point anymore, mother.” 

“What are you saying? You are the future king! You have an entire future ahead of you!” 

“I loved him!” he screamed. It was a scream that reverbated throughout the whole room. The queen looked at him in apparent shock, as it had been the first time her first-born child raised his voice towards her. 

“I loved him so much, and it hurts. It hurts everywhere,” he said as he clutched on his chest. “I can’t sleep, I can’t think, I can’t eat. I can’t live with myself. If only I could see him again, I…” Won Myeong trailed off and took deep breaths. “I want to rest.” 

“Won Myeong…” the queen answered back in protest. 

Silence. 

“Alright,” the queen said, her voice acquiescent, her face marked with undeniable sadness. She then stood up and showed herself out of the Crown Prince’s chambers. 

“Oh, my poor son,” she whispered to the night sky. 

  


—

  


Days passed and Won Myeong’s body, pitifully reduced to skin and bones, grew even weaker. He ceased to stand and sit. If he wasn’t asleep, he just motionlessly, mindlessly lied down on his bed, without care for whether it was night or day. 

One afternoon, Do Myeong visited his room, his eyes heavy, full of concern. “Brother,” he said. 

Won Myeong looked at him weakly and passively without uttering a word. Do Myeong whimpered; he never expected that his brother would look this weak, this vulnerable. 

“Brother, I’m sorry,” he said as he began to cry. “It was me...I...ordered someone to kill him,” Do Myeong let out heavy breaths. “The arrow...it was supposed to hit you...I’m...I’m very sorry. I know you will never forgive me. I will go far away, and I will never set foot in this palace again. I know I can never atone for this great sin.” 

Won Myeong looked at his brother, who was sobbing loudly by his bedside. He wanted to get mad, he wanted to hit him, to impale him with a sword, but he had grown too weak to do so. Instead, he just cried. His eyes were weary, sunk into the confines of his bones. He felt himself fading slowly, day by day. 

A lung infection hit Won Myeong three days following his brother’s visit. Doctors came and tried their best to cure him; they made him drink various sorts of herbal mixes and juices, but he had grown very weak. It was hopeless. The doctors said he would keep on living for a few more hours, two days at most. 

The king and the queen continued to stay by his beside, both of them wearing white mourning clothes. The queen cried loudly as she watched his son go in and out of consciousness, his breathing haggard. There he was, the Crown Prince, struck by a sickness of the heart and the body, his former glory and statute now reduced to that of a hollow vessel. 

“I am sorry,” he said quietly to his parents. The queen burrowed her face into the king’s chest. “Please...bury me as I hold this in my hands.” 

A white scripture with black ink was lodged loosely between Won Myeong’s hands. Written on it was the first poem Won Myeong read to Sun Ha on that fateful night. Perhaps, he wanted to read it to Sun Ha even in the afterlife, so he decided to bring it along with him. 

Won Myeong breathed deeply; he felt it, his time was fast approaching. In his mind, he sees a vision of Sun Ha walking playfully under a cherry blossom tree. In his vision, Sun Ha smiled at him, the brightest, most beautiful smile he had ever seen. He walked towards him, and he held his hand. He felt at ease. 

And then everything faded to black. 

  


—

  


The Crown Prince was dressed with a red  _ hanbok _ and a special headdress when he was placed inside the coffin. The memorial procession was quick and brief, attended by the king and the queen, as well as the eunuchs, servants, and guards who adored the prince. It was a somber afternoon, but it did not rain. 

The day after Won Myeong’s burial, the queen went to his chambers. She collected the things that were left behind by her son’s short life: there were all sorts of books, brushes, and scriptures. She always knew her son was an avid reader, a trait she had always found endearing. She then came across a collection of scriptures that she had never seen before. She opened one of the scripts, slowly, and was surprised to see a poem, written with his son’s ink and brush. It was a copy of the same poem that his son held in his hands in his death. She read it, her voice quivering, her eyes wet with tears. 

  


_ I look at you, just like how one would look at the moon at night _

_ Longing, yearning for your warmth _

_ Adoring your beauty from afar _

_ Wanting to touch you, but then, I am unable to _

  


_ You are the moon to my night sky _

_ You shine like the stars that bring light to my darkness _

_ You are my greatest comfort, my best friend _

_ My first love, my destiny _

_ But I can only love you from a distance _

  


_ Oh, how I long to have you by my side forever _

_ To hold you close, to kiss you _

_ Perhaps will there come another time _

_ In another life _

_ Where the moon and the sun can exist in the same sky? _

  


_ If there is one, I will make sure to keep you close _

_ And I will never let you go _

  


Tears continued to fall down her face as she laid down the scripture. Oh, how painfully tragic her son’s life was. Yet, she prayed, earnestly, that his soul may experience true love and happiness in the next life. 

  
  
  


**Gyeongbokgung Palace, 1836**

  


“Come over here, Gu Myeong-ah!” The queen said as she played with her four-year old son. It was a warm summer afternoon, and the royal family decided to spend some time outdoors. Upon hearing the voice of his mother, the child fell down as he tried to walk. He cried loudly upon seeing that his knee had been grazed. The queen ran over to his side and stood him up, dusting off the dirt from his clothes. “Aigoo, my young prince. You should be careful!” 

The king laughed a little as he watched his son try to keep himself from crying even more. He was a careless child, his son, but this child would soon inherit the throne in years’ time. 

Six years had passed since the death of Crown Prince Won Myeong, and Joseon was restored to its usual order. The whole nation was in chaos for a period of time, as it left the throne without an heir, sparking fears that pirates may invade the country, as it had been in a vulnerable state. Fortunately, no such invasion took place, and the queen was able to give birth to an heir: Gu Myeong. 

Gu Myeong was a lively and intelligent child. He was very attentive to his lessons, and he was able to read and understand both hangul and hanja at two years of age. He read all sorts of things, from Confucian texts, to laws, to poems. 

One night, while his mother was reading to him, he came across a poem printed on one of his books. “Mother, who wrote this?” he asked as he pointed to the text. 

The queen looked over what her son was referring to, and a sudden flush of nostalgia washed over her: it was Won Myeong’s poem. Following her son’s death, the king and queen entrusted Won Myeong’s poems to the scholars and poets of Joseon. Won Myeong’s words flowed into the hearts of people; his pain, his love, his happiness, his consciousness, all lived on through poetry. 

“That was written by your brother, Won Myeong.” 

Gyu Myeong nodded slowly. “Where is he now?” 

The queen smiled. “He’s not with us in this world anymore, my child. But he’s surely watching over you. And he’d love to meet you!” 

“I want to meet him, too!” Gyu Myeong’s eyes were sparkling, his voice enthusiastic. The queen’s heart fluttered. 

“Soon, my child. Maybe in another life.” The queen looked towards the sky. 

And suddenly there it was: a bright glimmer of hope, of a universe expanding, of souls intertwining. The hands of time were slow and gentle, but fate would soon do its magic. In another life, there would exist Won Myeong and Sun Ha, their faces lit up by their beautiful smiles, their together in a union no force in the universe could ever break. It will take time, but it will happen. 


	2. Changwon and Seoul, 1999

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. This marks the beginning of the present time narrative! I added this extra chapter to make way for the 2018 narrative (Soonyoung and Wonwoo will finally be adults in chapter 3!). I would like to thank Rin for the suggestion!
> 
> 2\. Soonyoung and Wonwoo have been aged up. Their birth year for this AU is 1992. 
> 
> 3\. For any questions, comments, reactions, and the like, you can reach me through the comments section or through here: 
> 
>  
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/jeoneonuwu)  
> [CuriousCat](http://curiouscat.me/jeoneonuwu)

“Wonwoo-ya, hurry up!”

“Yes, mom! Wait!” The child responded back as he tried to put all sorts of things into his tiny backpack, from his toy cars, his pencils, to his tiny tamagotchi, which was given to him by his mom for his fifth birthday. The seven-year-old child would be going to Seoul that day and he wanted to impress his cousins, most of whom he would be meeting for the first time.

After a few minutes, the child stood up and tugged the ends of his mother’s shirt. “I’m ready, mom!” The woman then smiled delightfully at her child; he was her greatest joy, her baby. She reached her right hand out, and Wonwoo grabbed it right away.

“Honey, let’s go?”

Wonwoo’s father folded his newspaper in half and stood up from his seat. “Dad! Let’s go!” Wonwoo’s eyes were twinkling, full of the youthful energy and eagerness, which made his father laugh. “Now, Wonwoo, calm down. You still have to meet your cousins in Seoul.”

They walked towards the bus station. It was a fine spring day, and it was Wonwoo’s favorite time of the year. There was something about spring that made him feel excited, rejuvenated, alive; he often felt as if he was looking for a surprise that was waiting to happen. To Wonwoo, spring meant happiness and life.

But there was a time when he cried the first time he saw a flower wilt. Wonwoo was four years old then. He was a child who had spent a lot of his time on their front yard, admiring the various species of flowers and plants that they had owned. One day, he saw one of his favorite plants wilt; some of its petals were falling out, its leaves were turning brown and brittle. It was dying. He never knew why, but he just started crying.

His mother found him a few minutes later, his eyes swollen and his nose wet with snot. She rushed over by his side, worried that her son was hurt, and asked what was wrong.

“It’s dying, mother...it’s dying.” Wonwoo cried as he pointed at the wilting flower.

His mother smiled. “It’s not dying, Wonwoo-ya. It’s just letting go. You’ll be able to see it bloom again next year. I promise.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

A year passed, and his mother was right; the flowers of the plant were in full bloom, its leaves were green and lucious. It was alive. And ever since that day, Wonwoo came to believe that everything that wilted would soon come back to life.

He held on tight to his parents’ hands as he looked at the trees; tall, proud, brimming with fruits and flowers. He felt at ease.

 

—

 

Wonwoo and his family arrived at the bus station after walking for thirty minutes. There weren’t a lot of people in the station yet, as they had been early. Feeling a slight pang of hunger, Wonwoo’s eyes scanned the snack stalls.

“Mom, please buy me _deokbokki_!”

Wonwoo’s mother knelt down in front of him and smiled. “Okay, Wonwoo-ya. But first, your dad and I will get our tickets. Promise me you’ll stay seated here?” his mom said as she extended her pinky finger.

“Promise,” he said as he intertwined his finger with hers. The young boy sat quietly as he watched his mom walk away.

 

A few minutes later, his parents went back to where he was, and his mom was holding a small cup containing the snack he requested. His eyes lit up, and then he stood up to embrace her. Enamored, Wonwoo’s mother gently patted the top of his head. It was quite a heartwarming sight.

Wonwoo and his parents boarded the bus right after the boy finished his back. They were seated side-by-side in comfortable, reclining chairs. Wonwoo chose to sit by the window. “I want to watch the flowers!” he said enthusiastically. His mother was seated beside him, while his father was positioned close to the aisle.

The trip began, and they spent it in utter silence; Wonwoo’s father took out his newspaper and began to enter his own world, while his mother took a nap. He, on the other hand, watched the scenery unfold in front of him; he liked the cherry blossom trees the most, as their flowers were the most beautiful ones he had ever seen. By the time he felt like his eyes began to tire because of all the colors, he took out his tamagotchi from his bag and played it with for a few minutes. Afterwards, he felt his eyes droop, and without knowing it, he also fell asleep.

A scenery unfolded in Wonwoo’s dream; the place was wide, and there were flowers of all kinds. But they were droopy, almost on the verge of wilting, resembling those of the dying plant that Wonwoo saw when he was four. He moved around; his feet brought him closer to a chrysanthemum tree full of red and white flowers. It took him by surprise when he finally saw that the chrysanthemums were the only ones in full bloom throughout the whole garden. Intrigued, he took a few more steps, his hands only inches away from the flower’s petals.

He was so close to touching them, when suddenly, the dream came to an end.

 

“Wake up, Wonwoo-ya.” It was his mother’s voice.

They were in Seoul.

Disoriented, Wonwoo slowly rose up from his seat and stretched his limbs. He just had the weirdest dream ever, and his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to recall its fragments. However, the dream’s essence had already begun to merge into ambiguity; the faint memory of red and white chrysanthemums were the only ones that stayed in his mind.

A massive crowd greeted Wonwoo as he emerged out of the bus. Such was the bustle of Seoul; its streets were full of people, its vibe was that of a seemingly never-ending, unrelenting train ride. To say that Wonwoo was surprised was an understatement. He was appalled, overwhelmed. His feet were restless; he felt that if he did not walk fast enough, he would lose grip of his mother’s hand and drown in the sea of people.

And so, he took his small frame forward, one step at a time, his shoulders bumping into the lower bodies of the other adults navigating their way through the bus station. He watched his parents’ backs as they pushed through the crowd, their lips uttering a gentle ‘excuse me’, or ‘sorry’ everytime the spaces constricted. The bus station, in those moments, seemed like an endless tunnel, and the light was nowhere to be seen.

Wonwoo then spots a young boy walking towards the opposite direction. He seemed to be the same age as him, although he was a bit chubbier. The other boy’s hands were also tightly clasped to those of his mother. Wonwoo watched him, his expression aloof, as if his mind was in some place else. But what really struck Wonwoo was the familiarity of the boys’ eyes; had he met this boy before? Were they schoolmates? Did they become playmates at the local playground located near their house?

He tried his best to remember, but he found no memory pointing specifically to the other boy’s face.

Within seconds, the boy was only a few steps away, and Wonwoo found himself looking at him directly. Wonwoo felt his shoulder bump into the boy’s as he walked past him.

And suddenly, there it was, the scene from his dream. But this time, it was different; all the flowers were in full bloom, and the red and white chrysanthemums stood gloriously in the middle. The sun was high up, and there were a lot of people. It was as if there was a celebration.

Without a warning, the image vanished, as sudden as it had appeared.

Wonwoo tried to look back to where the boy was as fast as he could, but he was gone. He stood there, unmoved, for a good number of seconds, until his mother pulled him back to reality.

“Wonwoo-ya, are you okay?”

The image appeared again, albeit a bit fainter. Wonwoo had a dazed look on his face; he could not understand what just happened. “Yes, mom.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Little did Wonwoo know that it is this same image that that tied him to his past, and the one memory that would lead him to his future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Finally, I'll be starting with the 2018 story for the next chapter. Stay tuned for actor!Wonwoo and director!Soonyoung!
> 
> 2\. Leave some comments? :D

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. The next chapter will immediately begin with the 21st century narrative!!!! Sorry if I made the first chapter too sad. I love angst. But the next chapters will be happier, and will feature a more carefree writing style and dialogue.
> 
> 2\. I was clearly inspired by Korean dramas in writing this chapter. I got themes from Goblin, Chicago Typewriter, Moonlight Drawn By Clouds, and The Moon that Embraces the Sun. I’ve watched everything but Moonlight Drawn By Clouds. Now I’m a bit motivated to watch it in full. 
> 
> 3\. The references to Korean culture (clothing, festivities, etc.) were gathered via Google and Wikipedia. 
> 
> 4\. This is, by far, the most difficult fic I’ve ever written. I hope you could give me some comments if you liked it (or if you want me to spice it up) to keep me motivated!
> 
> 5\. This is fic 2 of the Wonwoo Pairings fic series! Hooray for SoonWoo!
> 
> 6\. I can be reached here as well! 
> 
> [Twitter](http://twitter.com/jeoneonuwu)   
>  [CuriousCat](http://curiouscat.me/jeoneonuwu)


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